Megalomania
by bansheepunk
Summary: "Might controls everything, and without power, you can protect nothing." The story behind Vergil and the woman in red. Future chapters to come. Feel free to comment.
1. Intro

Life had been relatively quiet for the most part; she'd managed to blend in with the people here fairly well. Well, not so much 'blend in' as it was 'disappear in the background of.' She wasn't much of a talker, and kept to herself most of the time. She left her home very rarely, only venturing out into the city for basic necessities, her job at the library, and church services. She was a background character in the stories of the people that lived here, and that was exactly what she wanted. She didn't want to be noticed. Attention was dangerous. That was the whole reason she dressed like them when she went out; with the long dresses that reached to her feet, the flat heeled shoes that covered her ankles, and the soft grey hood that covered her hair and hid most of her face. Besides variations in color and cut, the citizens of Fortuna all shared the same overly conservative wardrobe. The reasons for this had always been plainly obvious to her, but she had nothing to fear from the Order and their intentions. No one ever took notice of her, she was just another civilian. It was the safest she'd ever been, so easy to become a faceless, nameless entity in this city. She had spent years running, playing cat-and-mouse with those who would use the power in her blood to further their own nefarious goals, and those who would simply wish her dead for daring to exist, before she found this place. It was here that she was able to escape them, fading into hooded masses of the Faithful. She'd been here almost a full year, and no one so much as knew her name. It wasn't perfect, but it worked for her, and it was all she needed. But when she saw him, she knew that change lingered on the horizon. He would be the end of her nonexistence.

He didn't dress like the rest. It's what made her notice him, how she knew he didn't belong there, that he knew nothing of Fortuna and its inner workings. His clothes were bold and ornate, colored in variations of blue and gold that contrasted the deep red of the dress she'd chosen that day; the tails of his coat trailed behind him as he walked, an air of stiff pride in his step. His eyes were cold and stern, and his face held little to no expression. She could feel her chest tighten as she passed by him on the street, sensing the power that radiated off of him. He was like her, but stronger, and if she had noticed him, then the Order certainly would as well. Nothing good would come of that.

She hesitated for a moment after they had passed one another, then turned and looked over her shoulder to verify that she had actually seen him. She had hoped that he was just another vision, that she was seeing things that weren't really there from the instability of her abilities, but he was still there, and he must have noticed her too, because he had looked back as well, their eyes locking in the moments before she turned back and hurried off into the crowd.

He knew. He knew what she was, just as she knew what he was.

Her stomach sank as she accepted the realization that this wouldn't be the last time their paths crossed.

There went her peace and quiet.


	2. Chapter 1

No one spoke to him or so much as looked at him since he arrived. It was just as well, he didn't need to have his time bogged down by simple minded small talk with mortals. They wouldn't have anything to say that would be useful to him in any regard. He could find what he needed on his own, starting with researching the history of this cult that called themselves the Order of the Sword. Apparently they worshipped his father as some sort of god or divine saviour. Their religious beliefs were curious and did intrigue him to some extent, but that's not what he was here for. He was here to learn more about the legacy of Sparda, about the nature of the power that was his birthright, and to search for an answer on how to claim it.

He had expected a city full of people that worshipped a demon as a god to be strange, but Fortuna had not been what he was expecting. It was quiet, sleepy, its citizens going about their lives in a peace that was so languid and dream like, it made him sick. It was _too_ peaceful, too content. He felt rather like walking among sheep as he explored the city, a herd of the blissfully ignorant, unaware of the inevitable slaughter. The sensation of something sinister lurking beneath the surface kept him on edge.

These people all blended together into one faceless crowd, indistinguishable from one another, nothing about them worth noting. Except for the woman in red.

She wasn't like them. She didn't fit here. In those few brief moments where they'd passed each other on the street, he felt it, and he knew. She was a Devil among them. Fitting that she'd been dressed in red. Why she was here, living as one of the mortals, he wasn't sure. Maybe she was using them, feeding off of them. Maybe she was what caused the peace here to feel so artificial. Maybe she was the wolf lurking in the shadows, picking off the herd one by one. Maybe she wasn't even real, just a vision, the meaning of which he had yet to understand. All in all, she was a mystery, but more importantly, a distraction. With some measure of annoyance he'd found that every so often his thoughts often would drift away from the contents of whatever historical tome he'd dug up from the most under visited corners of the library, to musings about the scarlet woman and how she fit in to all of this. It had to be more than coincidence that it was here in the city that worshipped his father as a deity that he had seen her, someone with an aura similar to his own.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes wearily and closing the book that lay on the table in front of him. Nothing had been made clearer in his time here, he'd only been left with more questions. It had only been a few days, however, and giving up at any point was not an option. He would not leave until he had the answers he sought. He stood, book in hand, intending to return it to the shelf where he had found it. The sun had gone down hours ago, leaving nothing but the dim light of the wall sconces to illuminate the room. He had thought he was alone here, until he felt a presence approaching behind him, and a soft voice rose from the silence.

 _"_ _You shouldn't be here."_

He turned to see who had spoken, a little put off that anyone would try to tell him where he could and could not be, and saw none other than the woman in red. He couldn't see much of her face beyond her hood, but what he could see was blank and expressionless, despite the undertones of urgency in her voice.

"And who are you, to tell me where I cannot be?" he asked cooley, retaining his collected demeanor.

"Who I am is inconsequential. You can't be here."

He felt a twinge of irritation at this response.

"I take orders from no one."

"I give none. I plead with you. You have to leave here before your disruptions cause the Order to take a closer look at things here."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what I said. My only concern is for my own safety, I have no care as to the motives behind your arrival. All I know is that you are too different and too powerful for the Order not to take notice. You have to leave before they do, if they haven't already."

"I cannot leave until I have the answers I seek."

"Then I pray to whatever force will listen that you find them soon."

With that, the woman turned and began to walk away. He followed after her.

"Who are you?"

"No one."

"Hardly. You are as I am. You think I can't feel it?"

"I know you can."

"People like us aren't 'no one.' "

"I am. And I want it to stay that way."

At this, he scoffed, finding her words dissatisfactory.

"Why would you desire to be nothing? We are born with a legacy that-"

"We are born with targets on our backs and prices on our heads. We are born into a life of endless persecution. Creatures like us are cursed to live in pain and solitude."

"With enough strength we would have the power to change that. We could make those that hunt us fear us."

"They already fear us, that's why they want us dead."

The woman paused, turning to face him once again. "I've already told you that I don't care to know you or your motives. I just want you gone so that I may continue my life in peace."

"You mean in hiding, like a coward."

"I never claimed not to be."

"Why should I listen to a coward?" he sneered, feeling his contempt for the woman grow as their conversation wore on.

"Because I know better than you what goes on within these walls."

"Enlighten me."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I said no."

"This is a waste of my time."

"Then stop following me."

They shared a moment of silence, and the woman began to walk away again, her steps echoing softly off the stone paved streets. He followed her again, driven by his own burning curiosity.

"Who are you?" he asked again.

"I told you, I'm no one."

"Give me your name."

"You first."

"Vergil." he said, a challenging tone in his voice. The woman sighed, defeated.

"Delilah. Now leave me be. I'm going home."

"Very well. But we will meet again, Delilah. I have questions for you."

 _"_ _Oh, joy."_


End file.
